


Home

by A_Zap



Series: Gone [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Guess Who's Back, M/M, Resurrection, Swearing, back again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 20:26:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10974747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Zap/pseuds/A_Zap
Summary: To say that Castiel was surprised to be alive would be an understatement. What was more surprising was having his Father offer him a beer and tell him that it was time for him to go home. After 9x23. Inspired by the song Home (Daughtry).





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and posted on FF.net on Aug. 15, 2014.
> 
> Final part to this series.

To say that Castiel was surprised when he opened his eyes was an understatement.

He had been sure that he was done. He had dissolved into nothingness like all angels do when they die since they have no afterlife. He had fixed Heaven as much as it could be fixed, and Dean and Sam had been as safe as they ever could be.

So, what had he done wrong this time? Why was he back?

Cas looked down and felt his eyebrows rise in further surprise. He was wearing his old outfit that he’d abandoned in a Laundromat, complete with his favorite trench coat. He didn’t just feel shocked at the clothes, but at the fact that he was in his vessel. If Sam and Dean had any sense, they should have burned his remains. He didn’t know if he classified as human or angel when he died, but still –

Castiel gave a small gasp as his state fully registered.

His grace had been returned to him.

It was actually _his_ grace, too, the one that Metatron had so roughly torn out. It settled and thrummed so naturally through his entire being, and he could feel his wings, his true wings with the black feathers that raven wings were based on, flutter in relief.

The grace he stole had never felt this right. It had limited his normal senses that he had with his real grace or as a human. It had burned and prickled. Also, since it had not been his own, the amount had been finite and threatened to drag him into death, which it ultimately had.

Cas shook off the distraction of having his real grace once more and finally looked at his surroundings, noting that he was once more on Earth.

He was in a bar. Cas recognized it as the bar he attempted to have a “last night on Earth” with Dean before shutting Heaven’s gates. Of all the places to find himself suddenly alive, this was not what he expected.

Which brought Castiel back to the question of how and why he was alive. Dammit, Cas hoped that Dean hadn’t done anything stupid to bring him back. Although it’s not like he would leave him, Cas really did not want to retrieve him from Hell. Again.

“Don’t worry. Dean didn’t make a demon deal.”

Castiel turned towards the bar and saw Chuck Shurley, the prophet of the Winchester Gospels, sitting there and drinking a beer. Except, there was something different about him, something that had changed from the last time Cas had seen him. The angel had thought him dead, but then again, he was an ally of the Winchesters. They seemed to pop back up. Still, the prophet’s aura wasn’t that of a human, or even an angel. It was something greater, but not necessarily bad.

Holy –

“You always were one of the smarter ones.” Chuck tipped his head in acknowledgement and took a swig of beer.

“Father.” Cas tried to keep the disbelief out of his voice.

He had finally found his Father, God. All of the searches and prayers, and it turned out God had been acting as a drunk prophet turned writer.

Cas took a moment to appreciate the irony that God had been right under Raphael’s nose, literally, when the archangel had been convinced he was dead.

So God _had_ helped more than they had thought during the Apocalypse, like Castiel had once told Dean was a possibility. Also, no wonder Chuck had continued to publish despite the Winchesters’ threats. Not only did the Winchesters never really check to see if he had actually stopped, but there really had been no danger to him.

And for a moment, Castiel remembered a hand on his shoulder in both support and admiration right before he died for the first time.

Chuck was looking at him with an amused smile on his face, like he could hear every thought going through his head.

He probably could.

For the first time, Cas could understand Dean’s dislike of having his mind read.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice as Chuck finally sighed. “Sit down, will you? You look kinda weird just standing there.” A bottle of beer appeared in his hand and he held it out to Cas. “C’mon. Have a beer.”

“Oh. Okay.” Cas slid unto the stool next to Chuck. In all of his experience, which was vast indeed, he didn’t think he had ever felt so awkward. And Dean was always commenting on how awkward he was.

Then again, this was his Father. Cas had rebelled (though considering that he was present at the time, he probably approved of that), made a deal with the King of Hell, opened Purgatory, declared himself God, went on a killing spree due to the souls of Purgatory and Leviathans gaining control, unleashed the Leviathans causing a new Apocalypse, and helped Metatron (unintentionally, but the blame was still there) cast all of the angels out of Heaven. And that was just the short list. He was pretty sure that there was a lot more. Since he was brought back again, that was a sure sign that something was wrong.

“It was never a punishment.” Chuck’s voice startled him from his thoughts.

Castiel blinked at him. “What do you mean?”

Chuck sighed and asked the barman for a scotch to replace his beer. “I have never brought you back as a punishment, Castiel.”

_That can’t be right._ Cas thought. After all the mistakes he’d made, the only reason he could come back was to fix things. He tried to vocalize that. “But I – “

“Yes, you have made mistakes, but that kind of comes with the whole free will thing.” Chuck took a sip of his scotch. “I made you a bit different, Cas, so if anyone is to blame it’s me.” He looked at Cas in the eye and he was surprised to see the remorse in their depths. “Naomi was wrong. You aren’t broken, just different.” He looked back at his scotch and swirled it around. “Actually, probably should have limited her ages ago. I think I gave the intelligence division too much wriggle room since they were drilling into people’s heads.”

Cas’s breath caught and he didn’t really hear the last part of what Chuck said. Ever since Naomi had uttered those words, he had worried that there was something wrong with him. But it turned out that he was supposed to be different, and that his mistakes were somehow okay.

That was a bit much to wrap his head around.

“Why?” The question popped out before he could stop it and he felt a slight flush crawl up his face. Always asking questions and not doing what he was told: that was the way Cas rolled.

Chuck chuckled and gave Cas an appreciative glance. “One of the things I like about you is that you at least try to understand things.” His expression grew more somber, and it took two more sips of scotch for him to answer. “I created angels and humans differently. To angels, I gave power and knowledge and very little awareness of their emotions and free will. To humans, I did the opposite. I gave them emotions and free will, but very little awareness of knowledge and their own power. Then, of course, came the apple and they gained knowledge.

“Of course, I created you before I created humans, but I tried to give you a bit of what I wanted to give humans. You were the last angel, so I thought, what the hell? I gave you the power and knowledge of angels but a bit more awareness of your own emotions and free will. Thus, your tendency to question and follow your heart came to be.” Chuck took another sip. “Having more heart has caused you some problems though. I thought you would help give the other angels more awareness of their free will, leading to their independence, kind of like after the Apocalypse, but every time you were ‘re-educated’ into obedience.” He looked back at Cas. “Again, sorry about that. It was supposed to be natural, like humans discovering knowledge, but it didn’t work out.

“Eventually, I figured that no angel would really discover free will as long as I was around. So, like every parent must in their children’s lives, I took a step back. I left so you all would figure things out.” Chuck grimaced. “Which didn’t really work with them starting the Apocalypse millennia early. Sorry.”

Castiel sat back and absorbed what he had been told. Suddenly, a lot of things made sense.

That didn’t really answer his question though.

“Then why do you keep bringing me back if not as a punishment?” Cas tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, trying to understand.

“Well, first time was to help the Winchesters. Not only did they need help, but you wanted to help them.” Chuck smiled. “The second time was really as a reward for saving the world, like Gabriel. I didn’t really mean for you to bring back Sam or try to stir up Heaven, but hey, choices.” He sipped his scotch and he looked sad. “The third time was because you wanted to fix things. And the fourth was all Gadreel’s doing.”

“And this time?”

Chuck stared at Castiel. “Why do you think?”

Cas tried to think about it. “I don’t know. I can’t think of anything that I need to do.”

“I can think of one.” Chuck mumbled into his scotch, but Cas got the feeling he wasn’t supposed to hear that. He drank the rest of his scotch in one swig. “How about you go home and try to figure it out from there?”

“Heaven? That’s not – “ Cas couldn’t help but be a bit flustered. “I do not feel like I belong there.”

“I wasn’t talking about Heaven.” Chuck smiled again. “Where do you think home is?”

“I-“ Cas thought for a minute. _Where is home?_

Images and sensations came to mind: bright green eyes; a sea of freckles; the smell of leather, gunpowder, and pine; a warm, calloused hand on his shoulder; the brightest soul he had ever witnessed in all of his years.

_Dean Winchester_. The answer came to him. _Home is where the one I love is; it’s with Dean._

“Oh.” He said softly. After leaving Heaven and before finding Dean, he had wandered because he had no home, but in his last moments he had felt at peace because he had been home.

“Exactly.” Chuck’s smile widened. “Go home, Cas.”

“Yes, Father.” Castiel stood and raised his wings, prepared to fly off.

“And Cas?” Cas looked once more at his Father. “I’m proud of you.”

Cas felt a smile cross his face. “Thank you.”

And he was off, soaring across the sky, his heart and grace singing.

He was finally going home.

To Dean.

* * *

Castiel landed in Dean’s bedroom in the bunker. He frowned and tilted his head as he looked at his human.

It appeared as if Dean had been searching for something, but as he touched down, Dean froze where he was on his bed. His breath seemed to hitch for a moment, and Cas couldn’t help but wonder what Dean had been doing.

Then Dean turned around and looked at him.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas gave him his standard greeting as he studied him.

Dean did not look his best. He had smudges under his eyes from lack of sleep and his eyes themselves looked a bit red and glassy. There were a few more lines and freckles on his face than there had been the last time Cas saw him. His body was tense like a bowstring.

Cas wondered if these changes were somehow a result of his death.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice was soft and filled with a variety of emotions. Castiel could hear sadness, happiness, and a tentative hope among other things.

He tilted his head, as it should be obvious that it was him. “Yes?” It seemed like the safest answer.

Suddenly, Dean was hugging him and he instinctively brought his arms and wings around him in return. He could feel and see that Dean was alright and alive. He took a deep breath and appreciated Dean’s scent.

Cas had missed this.

Dean clung unto him tightly, in such a way that Dean hadn’t held him since he was bringing his soul back from Hell. Dean hadn’t even grasped him this tight when they were reunited in Purgatory. It made Cas feel like Dean didn’t just need him for his help.

A strange feeling washed over, and Cas managed to identify it as love and sense of home. It was the best and most right thing he had ever felt in all of his existence.

He smiled into Dean’s neck.

Castiel was finally home.

* * *

Dean couldn’t believe it until he held Cas in his arms.

It was really him in his old trench coat with the crooked tie that made him want to tug Cas close and fix it. He was breathing and he could feel the angel’s heartbeat underneath his hands. And he _was_ an angel because he had heard his wings.

“I always knew you’d come back.” Dean hated how quiet his voice was, but Cas was more important than that.

A small chuckle came from him. “We always do seem to find our way to each other.” The deep, gravely, familiar voice washed over Dean and he couldn’t help but feel like some missing puzzle piece had been returned and put back in place. He felt complete.

They pulled away from each other slightly and Dean could see Cas smiling that small, genuine smile.

Actually, now that he thought about it, that smile…

Dean punched Cas.

Or, he tried to at least.

Cas saw it coming and had turned with the punch to cause minimum damage. He now was staring at Dean with wide eyes as Dean clutched his hand and cursed. He had forgotten that punching an angel was like punching steel.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean paused as Cas put two fingers on his hand and the pain went away.

“Dean, why did you attempt to punch me?” Dean looked up at Cas, which turned out to be a big mistake. Not only was Cas doing his head tilt, but his puppy dog eyes were out. Great, now Dean felt guilty.

He rallied his resolve and shoved an accusing finger Cas’s face. “You died, you asshole. You promised you wouldn’t.”

Cas narrowed his eyes, releasing Dean from the power of his puppy eyes. “I thought I promised to try not to die, but dying is somewhat inevitable for all of Creation, Dean. I can’t really promise to never die.”

“Yeah, well, it didn’t look like you were trying too hard.” Dean turned away and silently cursed himself. Why couldn’t he just be grateful that Cas was back?

“The grace was killing me anyway. I thought that saving you as my last act would at least make it worth it.” Dean felt a gentle hand come onto his shoulder. It always amazed him how something that could crush him like a bug could be so gentle at the same time. “I’m sorry my death caused you grief.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean shuffled his feet a bit and turned back around, “next time, give a thought for us, okay?”

“Of course, Dean.” Cas gave him an indulgent smile, love shining through his eyes.

Suddenly, Dean was hyper aware of the fact that he was only wearing boxers and a t-shirt. “How about I get dressed and we move this conversation?”

“Of course.” With a flutter of feathers, Cas was gone, most likely to the library. At least during his time as a human he had figured out that it wasn’t alright to stay in the room when someone was changing.

As Dean put on his usual outfit, he thought about what he should do next. He had decided that he would figure out his feelings when Cas returned, but now that the moment had arrived he had no clue what to do.

God had told him to make things clear, but he didn’t do chick flick moments.

He was going to screw this up and God was going to send him to Hell. Or maybe somewhere worse, though he had no clue what that would be.

Dean quickly ran his fingers through his hair and steeled his resolve.

_Oh, well. Might as well get this over with._

Dean left his room.

* * *

Dean found Cas studying one of the scrolls in the library, curious eyes roaming over the ancient text. It struck him how right it felt for him to be there. He could almost imagine him, Cas, and Sam sitting around preparing for a case, eating together, or exploring how far Cas’s newfound pop culture knowledge went.

Cas looked up at him from where he was on the couch they had set up, and that small smile was back.

“So,” Dean walked over to him and sat down next to him, “planning on fluttering off soon?”

Stupid, stupid, stupid. That was definitely not the thing to say to figure out _feelings_. Why the hell did he ever open his mouth?

Dean felt doubly guilty as he saw the smile flicker and fade from Cas’s face. The guy actually looked a little nervous.

“Where would I go?” He asked looking up as if asking more than Dean that.

“I don’t know. Heaven?” Dean shrugged, but decided to roll with this discussion he had started.

“With my powers restored, I am more useful to you than Heaven.” Cas said, but it looked like he was holding something back.

Still, the wording was odd. “What do you mean ‘useful?’”

Cas tilted his head at him in confusion. “Well, as an angel, I can now offer my full power to you should you need it.”

_Oh, for the love of Christ_ , Dean ran his hand down his face, what he needed to make clear obvious. All of this time and it seemed that Cas still thought that that was the sort of need that Dean had for him.

“That’s not what I meant, Cas.”

Cas’s brow furrowed. “But – “

Dean grabbed Cas by his tie and yanked him towards him. The fact that that actually worked showed how much the angel trusted him. “Listen to me.”

“I always do.” Cas’s confused expression irked him for some reason.

“Good.” Dean paused and gathered himself. “I need you. Angel or human, cursed or not.” He stared right into Cas’s eyes like they always did. “I _need_ you.” Then he reached down and grasped Cas’s hand in his own.

For a second, Cas just stared at him uncomprehendingly. Then Dean saw the spark of realization in his eyes. “Oh.” His voice was soft, full of surprise and awe. Then a smile crossed his face, and his fingers became entwined in Dean’s own.

“Yeah.” Dean looked away for a second. After all, he had to keep some dignity.

Cas scooted closer to him and hesitantly laid his head on Dean’s shoulder. The action seemed unpracticed. Dean felt like he should be freaking out right about now, but this felt too right.

“So,” Dean continued, because he couldn’t help but want some definition in this situation, “what exactly does this make us?”

He felt Cas sigh in that exasperated way when he was being obtuse. “Humans always need to put labels on everything. Given the limits of human language this is quite difficult.” He brought his head up and looked Dean in the eye. “In my opinion, labels are highly…overrated I believe the term is. And do you think there is any way to describe us?” He set his head back down. “As I told you before, we share a profound bond.”

That’s when Dean understood. Why Cas had never really pushed for anything or seemed bothered by the assumptions of others.

Their relationship could not simply be defined in any words. It was deeper, more _profound_ , than could ever be expressed. Some might not understand this, but it was true. All they really needed was to be by each other’s side.

“Yeah, I guess so.” With that matter settled, Dean put his arm around Cas.

Cas sighed again, but this time it was a sigh of contentment. “I love you.” He said simply with a smile.

Dean grinned. “I know.”

Cas chuckled. “I understood that reference.”

Dean’s grin widened and he closed his eyes.

Cas’s voice came softly up to him. “I met my Father.” His voice was tinged with a bit of surprise. “He said he was proud of me.”

_About time, dickhead._ Dean thought to God, but he knew that Cas had needed that. At least now he wouldn’t think living was punishment.

“And he told me to come home.” Cas seemed to snuggle a bit into Dean’s side. “So I came to you.”

Dean felt his heart swell and was glad that the feeling this time was mutual. He couldn’t help but feel a bit proud that Cas would rather be with him than in Heaven. And as long as Cas thought that he was his home, and Dean didn’t do something stupid, the angel would stay.

With Cas’s love to reassure him and the angel himself in his arms, Dean drifted off to sleep feeling like he too was finally home.

* * *

Sam rubbed his eyes as he stifled a yawn. He opened his eyes just as he walked into the main room, and startled a bit seeing his brother and his apparently alive angel wrapped in each other’s arms on the couch, both seemingly asleep.

He watched them for a moment, noting their positions, and smiled.

“Fucking finally.” Sam muttered to himself as he went to make breakfast for his restored family.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I am still mad that Chuck and Castiel never got a chance to talk or even acknowledge each other’s presence. They couldn’t have at least sat next to each other when they were in that bar waiting for the world to end and give the illusion of having a talk? Cas really needs to resolve his Daddy issues, and I didn't want him to think this revival was another punishment. 
> 
> Also, I wish he and Dean would get together. I wrote this 3 years ago and they are still dangling the possibility in front of us. It has long ago ceased being subtext.
> 
> And Castiel's latest death isn't helping matters.


End file.
